


nocturne

by summercourtship



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Kidnapping, MC can be a reader insert but it's written in third person, Obsession, Rating May Change, Stalking, do you ever realize that all of your plot structures follow the same formula because i have, inspired by Phantom of the Opera, no beta we die like men, on a little hiatus don't mind me, summary will probably change but who knows (i don't)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summercourtship/pseuds/summercourtship
Summary: "What if I don’t want to come with you?” She asks, flinching when her voice shakes towards the end. She’s been terrified since she’s heard his voice, but she’s managed to keep it out of her voice, and hopefully out of her stance. Until now, when the threat he poses becomes much more clear. He hums in mock consideration, moving so he’s only a few breaths away from her.“Well, you either come with me willingly or we can do this the hard way,” He reaches out a hand to her. She silently weighs her options.And nods, taking his outstretched hand.A loosely Phantom of the Opera inspired canon-divergence AU
Relationships: Choi Saeran/Main Character, Choi Saeran/Reader, Han Jumin/Main Character, Han Jumin/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	1. Ouverture

**Author's Note:**

> yeah yeah, I know everyone and their mother has at least thought of this but I want to write it and nothing will stop me. Also, I wanted to place it in the context of Deep Story (specifically, Jumin’s route) because that is intriguing, ain’t it? Not written in second person, but I avoid describing MC/using a name so... go crazy go stupid it can be you if you want. :)

_If I am to be saved, it is because **your love** redeems me.  
-Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera (1910)_

She hesitates in front of the elevator, a strange feeling curling in her gut. 

_It’s just because Jumin was worrying so much. You’re fine- V swore so._ She thinks to herself, trying to calm the relentless thoughts slamming against the inside of her brain. But nonetheless, her fingers dial his familiar number, just a quick press to the 1 and she’s listening to the soft ringing as she boards the empty elevator. 

After less than two rings, he picks up. “Are you back safe?”

“Yeah, I’m in the elevator now. I just….,” She trails off, wondering if expressing her thoughts would be beneficial, especially considering how much he must be worrying at that moment. Sometimes, it’s comforting to know that the person you trust most shares your worries, but she doubts that he’d think so in this situation. “No, it’s silly. It is funny though, I wanted to return home so bad- not that spending time with you wasn’t wonderful, I just wanted to work on the party- but now that I’m here… It feels wrong.” 

“You can always come back if you don’t feel safe. I can arrange for Driver Kim to pick you up as soon as possible.” He says, his voice as collected as always. But she knew that he was going to fret until she saw him at the party tomorrow, and she really didn’t want to add any unnecessary complications to that. 

“No, no, I think it's best for us to be apart for a bit. Try to be a normal couple, you know? I’m just overthinking about what you were worried about and being back here makes it seem so much more…. Plausible, I guess? But everything is fine, I’m sure. I know you’re probably worried sick as well, so maybe me venting isn’t super helpful to you,” She chuckles to herself as the elevator rises, watching the numbers light up with a corresponding ping. 

_….Ping…. Ping…. Ping…. Ping…. Ping…._

“No, you should feel that you can vent to me. It’s only fair, since I seem to do it to you all the time.” She can practically see the teasing, but slightly self-hating, glint in his eyes. 

“And that’s perfectly okay.” She reassures him. He needs to have someone that he can vent to, that he can talk to about his emotions without feeling the need to play the part of the cold corporate heir. 

The elevator slows. “...Well, I’m here. I’ll call you again later.” She sighs, sad to have to say goodbye once more, though she is eager to get into the apartment. 

“I love you.” He says, and though he’s said it once or twice before it’s all still so new. She bites back a smile, familiar giddiness rising in her. 

“I love you, too.” She responds, ending the call as the elevator finally stops on her floor, opening to an empty hallway. She gathers herself before stepping into the hall, moving down the corridor until she reaches the apartment. The door, mercifully, still locked. She begins to feel silly for worrying herself and Jumin, punching in the passcode. The door swings open to a dark and empty apartment, but she doesn’t feel the sense of home she’d felt in the few days she spent in Jumin’s own apartment. _And why should I? I’ve only been in this apartment for less than two weeks, and it was definitely Jumin that made the penthouse feel like home, not the space. After all, I do love him._

She drops her rucksack onto the couch and drapes the fabric dress bag Jumin gave her over the back. She hasn’t even looked at the dress yet, her thoughts have been racing too much to think about such a trivial thing. She’s just ready to change out of her clothes, get into some pajamas, and just go to sleep. She starts towards the bedroom, the lights from the city outside enough to illuminate her way. But a creak of a floorboard behind her freezes her in her place. 

“That penthouse has immaculate security,” 

She turns around. Meets the cold gaze of the man in her apartment, silhouetted against the window. His eyes betray no emotions, an electric blue that seems to glow in the dark. His hair is a shock white that looks surprisingly soft, even though it was obviously chemically damaged. Maybe it was the low-lighting that made it seem so. Despite the thunderous beating of her heart, her voice is calm when she speaks. 

“It’s you.” She knows who it is, the only person who it could be. She’s not as naïve as some people would want to believe, and there have been far too many weird things happening to her lately for it to be anybody else. Her suspicions are confirmed when he seems delighted that she already knows who he is. “Unknown.”

“Have you been waiting to meet me?” He asks, quirking his head slightly to the side. She digests his question. She most definitely has not been waiting to meet him, not consciously at least. But she had always been curious about who the man who lured her into her new world was. More than that, she often wondered what his intentions were in doing so. 

“No.” She says, watching his eyebrows twitch together in frustration, or anger, before continuing. “But I’m not disappointed you’ve finally shown up.” There’s a brief silence between the two of them, and she distinctly feels that she’s being observed. Her mind, however, is racing. She has no idea how the situation she has found herself in is going to play out, and the very real possibility opens itself up to her that it may not end favorably.

“I’m here to take you away,” He says abruptly, as if he’d been rehearsing this before she’d entered the apartment. _He probably had._ “To a place where there is no hurt, there is no pain. All your worries and anxieties will disappear.” He continues, and her brain is screaming that her window for escape is narrowing rapidly. “Come with me, to Magenta, and all your troubles will be gone. You’ll be looked after and cared for, by people who _truly_ care about you.” 

“What if I don’t want to come with you?” She asks, flinching when her voice shakes towards the end. She’s been terrified since she’s heard his voice, but she’s managed to keep it out of her voice, and hopefully out of her stance. Until now, when the threat he poses becomes much more clear. He hums in mock consideration, moving so he’s only a few breaths away from her.

“Well, you either come with me willingly or we can do this the hard way,” He reaches out a hand to her. If this were a less serious situation, she might giggle at the predictability of the line. But right now she cannot think of the cartoon-ish way he spoke this line, and she weighs her options.

And nods, taking his outstretched hand.

****  
Jumin stares out into the crowd, party-goers and reporters alike staring back at him. But despite all his searching, he could not find the eyes he wanted to see most. The gentle and understanding eyes of the person who, despite having known barely two weeks, has become his everything. 

_I want your eyes to only see me._

But where was she? 

Alarm bells start to ring in his head once he picks out the other members of the RFA and she is not among them. Even more suspicious is the distinct absence of V. He said she’d be safe. He swore so. 

Any and all words that Jumin was going to say freeze on his tongue, instead entirely focused on finding _her_. He excuses himself from the stage, having done enough to gently expose Sarah and Glam, but the victory is no longer sweet. It was for her and Jumin, but it won’t work if she’s not here to reap the benefits. The first RFA member he comes across is 707, who is looking as confused as everyone else. Well, maybe a little less.

“Where is she?” He asks, trying to keep the anger (the fear) out of his voice. He doesn’t succeed. The one time when concealing his emotions fails him. For his credit, Seven does try to tone down his normal nonchalant nature, surely noticing the state Jumin was about to fall into, if not already in.

“We… We don’t know.” He says, but before he can continue Jumin cuts him off.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“She didn’t check in with anyone- and her phone still says she’s at the apartment.”

“Phones can be tampered with, you know this.” Jumin doesn’t understand why Seven looks distinctly like he’s hiding something- that he knows something, or has a hunch about something. Why had no one told him of this, why is no one else seeing how wrong the situation is? “You and V are the only other people who know what she looks like, right?” 

“Well, yes, but-” The absence of both V and his love has to be connected somehow. He swore she’d be safe. He swore she’d be safe. He swore she’d be safe. 

“Where’s V?”

“He- uh,” Seven is looking at anywhere but Jumin’s eyes. Jumin clenches his hands into fists, unused to the helplessness he’s feeling and converting it into anger. He’s been helpless too often lately, and he _needs_ to do something.

_“Where’s V?”_

“He left.”

****

Eyes open to an unfamiliar room, with unfamiliar scents. 

The room is furnished well. It is exactly her style- almost clinically so. It is as if someone had taken her aesthetic choices and just bought anything that fit the description. It has an unfeeling imitation of home, of warmth. Though, as she sits up and slowly takes in the room around her, she notices that a few of the furnishings seem dated. Seem like things she would have picked out a year or two ago, but has since grown past. Light streams in from the window, the curtains dancing in a gentle breeze. Across from the foot of the adequately sized bed is a seating area, a coffee table with a few books, and an armoire on the wall to the other side of the room from that. The light from the window reflects on the mini-chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the crystals twinkling brightly. While she’s examining this, her eyes focus further behind it onto an object on the ceiling in the corner of the room. A camera. 

She quickly looks away, feigning ignorance of the watchful eye. Her hands form fists in the sheets, breathing deeply as the memory of the last night makes itself known again. 

“Jumin was right.” She mutters to herself, the full impact of her statement slowly dawning on her. Oh god. She will never show up to the party- or never showed up, there is no clock in here. She looks around her for her phone, before remembering she placed it on the table in Rika’s apartment and never picked it back up. She was stranded in a foreign place, with no hope of contacting the outside world. No hope of contacting Jumin, who must be worse than he was when Elizabeth III ran away. Infinitely worse. 

The anxiety currently taking hold in her stomach spurs her out of her bed, restless energy coursing through her veins. Her heart echoes in her ears, the only other sounds the sound of wind through leaves and birds chirping outside. How odd that such happy, such relaxing sounds should be found here. She moves to the window, taking a look outside. Her window overlooks a blooming garden, the sunlight making the colors of the flora vibrant and inviting. She breathes in air that smells of nature, somehow calming her frantic heart. 

The door that she had previously looked over opens. There’s only two doors in the room- one which leads to the hall, she now knows, and the other to a bathroom, she assumes. Unknown walks in, no longer masked. In the light of day, she can pick out hints of pink in his hair. Whether purposeful or leftover from whatever his hair color used to be, she cannot tell. But moreso, she can see his features truly, see the dark bags under his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks. 

“Isn’t this much better than that stuffy penthouse? And look at you, dressed so nicely, too.” He gives her a once over, and she looks down. She wears a loose and long nightgown, white and flowing, cut in a way that hides her figure. _Do not ponder on how this got onto your body._

“Why am I here?” She asks. He moves to the sitting area, taking a seat. She follows, sitting in the chair opposite him. 

“You’re here because we chose you to be here. Good people deserve good things, don’t you think?” He looks her straight in the eyes, and she holds his gaze for a moment before looking away, the intensity too much to bear. It almost reminded her of how Jumin looked at her, but there was something different in Unknown’s.

“But I don’t know what this place is, how can I know it’s good?” She asks. “...What do you want with me?” 

“We want you… to stay. To join us. You’ve already done much more for us than you think.” He smiles, but his eyes remain fixated on her, unchanging.

“What do you mean?” 

“If all pans out, you will see.” And with that he gets up to leave. “I wish I could stay longer, but I have work to do.” She watches him leave, not getting up to join him. “Perhaps we can go for a walk in the garden, later. That’ll give you something to look forward to, my pet.” She starts at the pet name, but before she can object, he’s gone. 

She sinks back against the chair, exhaling the breath she’s been holding. She has no new information on her situation, and can only bide her time until later, whenever that may be. Passing the time mindlessly seems to be her only option, and she searches for some form of entertainment. Her eyes fall onto the books on the table, surprised to find a few well loved copies of her favorite books. With a shaking hand, she reaches to pick one up at random. 

It’s worn cover greets her, like an old friend, a memory from a time long passed. She smiles despite herself, remembering how much she loved this book when she’d been a few years younger.

“I lost my copy of this one years ago,” She muses to herself, nostalgic for two years ago when she would sit outside her favorite coffee shops and cafes, reading and highlighting quotes in the books she would read. Classics, contemporary fiction, fantasy- they all appealed to her. Anything to make her forget her unremarkable life. But as she begins to leaf through the book, the scrawling in the margins begins to look hauntingly familiar. Her heart racing, she finally reaches the inside front cover, where her name is written in a faded black ink.

The book falls from her hands, shock coursing through her veins. She slowly looks up into the camera in the corner of the room, it’s blinking red light staring right back at her.


	2. Étude

The garden is gorgeous. Rows and rows of flowers, their gentle scene wafting through the air. Various insects buzz about, the only sound aside from the crunch of gravel beneath their feet. Unknown had returned to the room within a few hours, ready to offer his arm for her to take. The sun is starting to set, and the occasional lightning bug makes itself known with small flashes of light. If she wasn’t being held against her will, she might have taken the moment to fully appreciate the beauty of the moment she was in. But as it was, she could only vaguely register the garden’s splendor, instead focusing almost entirely on her silent companion.

In the hours since she had woken up, she had become no closer to figuring out why exactly she had been brought to Magenta, or even why she had been chosen (seemingly at random) to join the RFA in the first place. Part of her is certainly grateful that she did end up joining, because without it she’d have never met Jumin, or any of the other members, but now that she’s here, she can’t help but suspect the intention was _not_ to revive her love life. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she takes a peek at Unknown. He’s wearing the same thing he’d been wearing earlier- a simple jacket and tank-top, the sleeve of the jacket slipping off his tattooed shoulder. His expression is odd- his mouth is scowling but his eyes are soft, no actual malice in their depths. Not that she doubts they’re capable, if his emotionless eyes from the night before are any indication. But his true nature is lost on her. Is he like Jumin, whose cold eyes were able to melt with the slightest human connection? The thought of Jumin sends a cruel pang to her heart, and she silently sends him her love. But it’s a vague comfort, knowing that until he has her in his arms again, he won’t rest. 

“Is there anything else I can call you?” She asks, breaking the quiet. He looks over at her, raising a thin eyebrow. “I’ve been calling you ‘Unknown’ in my head and I was wondering if there was anything else I could call you. A... real name?” She elaborates, suddenly nervous. _What if it was his real name and he’s now offended and he’s going to kill her because why else would he be looking at her like that?_ But he just closes his eyes for a second before answering. 

“This is as much my real name as anything else.” He says, looking farther off into the garden. “Sometimes, you go by enough empty names that they all sound the same.” He turns and looks at her, watching her eyebrows furrow in slight confusion. 

“Empty names?” 

“Names that mean nothing to you. That have no connection to who you _think_ you are- eventually they all reflect you, in some way.” They look at each other for a few moments. Her face is half illuminated by the sunset, the other cast in shadow. His heart flutters when watching the way the light dances in her irises, illuminating the otherwise unseen shades of her eyes. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear, having been blown out of place by a slight breeze, his eyes tracking the movement of her fingers.

“...So there’s no other name?” Her question brings him out of his temporary reverie. 

He pauses, obviously inwardly debating something. The silence drags on for a few century long seconds before he finally answers. “I- Saeran. You can call me Saeran. Nothing else.”

And she smiles at him. “Saeran… I like it.” She says, before continuing her journey down the garden pathway. Saeran himself stopped, heart pounding in his ears. She smiled at him. A genuine smile, no fear behind her eyes or in her face. And, for the first time in his life, he feels that everything will be okay, in the end. She turns to look at him, squinting as the sun hits her in the eyes. “What _exactly_ are the rules here?” 

“Until you’re officially initiated, you have a very limited run of the building. Really, you should try and stick to your room, unless I come and find you. You might see something you’ll regret if you don’t.” He’s trying to keep his voice level, not let the threatening tone he might have used before slip through. He reminds himself that he needs her to be comfortable here, to want to stay with _him_ rather than _Jumin fucking Han_. The reminder of the difficult battle he must fight- to make the woman whose affection has been _bought_ love him instead. The reminder works, more often than not.

“What if I don’t want to be initi-” It stops working.

“Stop asking questions.” It comes out snappier than he had anticipated, and she jerks back slightly, as if stung. The friendly energy that had been building during their time outside crumbles before him. He sighs. “Just stay in your room and eventually you will understand.” 

“Wh- nevermind.” She looks off again, and he mentally curses himself. For every step forward he takes in convincing her to stay with him, to trust him, he ends up fucking up somehow and causing himself to take two- if not three- steps backwards. She had seemed more at ease, before, and now she’s back to how she was last night. Shaking like a frightened bird, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“I’m-” He’s about to apologise, try and salvage this memory between the two of them. But she’s done putting up the charade of enjoying herself, and interrupts.

“Can we go back inside now?” 

“...Fine.”

****

Jumin’s right thumb is starting to ache from the amount of times he’s run its smooth surface over the edge of his left cufflink. It’s a nervous habit, he recognizes this, but he can at least admit to himself that he is most certainly nervous right now. To the untrained eye, he looks barely ruffled. But those around him know him too well to be fooled by his demeanor. They watch him from the corners of their eyes, as if he’ll explode any second. Funnily enough, he thinks he’s more likely to _implode_. He’s not used to the desire to curl up into a ball and scream, but he’s become familiar with the sensation of discovering new emotions lately. 

He wonders if this is what being on the verge of a nervous breakdown feels like. 

When Elizabeth the Third had run away, he was distressed, yes. But it also gave him the opportunity to step back and reflect on his actions and behavior towards her. However, now with his love missing, all he knows is that once she’s back in his arms, he will never let go. The anxiety coursing through his veins spurs him into action, starting to mentally plan everything he will do to make sure something like this never happens again. Of course, he will discuss it with her, per their agreement, but she will understand that this is pertinent. Her safety is, and always will be, his top priority. 

_Making serious decisions when you’re anxious is not smart, Jumin._ She had said that to him during one of the nights she’d been at the penthouse, gazing at the cage with tired eyes. The memory of the interaction makes him pause. Being rational has always been his strong suit, has it not? Rational, not emotional. But how do you separate them when the only thing you can think about is your _goddamn emotions?_

When this is all done and everything is back to how it should be, he’s going to need to take at least a week off work. A week of just laying in bed, the love of his life safely in his arms, Elizabeth the Third curled up near them… The mental image offers a brief reprieve from the pain and anxiety that he’s been feeling for the past week, since his father initially came up with the idiotic idea to marry him off.

“Jumin.” Seven calls him from across the room, bringing Jumin crashing back down into reality. They, along with the rest of the RFA, had set up camp (as Yoosung referred to it) at Seven’s residence to try and track both their party planner and V down. It was a gut feeling that their disappearances were connected, especially considering V’s promise that she’d be safe. 

Jumin makes his way to Seven’s massive computer set-up, clenching and unclenching his fist as he walks. They (mainly Seven) had been at work trying to track down the newest member of the RFA, but kept hitting walls with every new idea. Her phone was still at Rika’s apartment, and they hadn’t been able to safely figure out a way to get into the apartment without triggering the “special security system” that Rika had insisted be put in place. Seven obviously knew what that security system was, but he was still refusing to open up about it, saying it wasn’t important to finding the missing woman.

After that, their first idea had been to check the CCTV cameras in Rika’s apartment, but the recorded footage from the past two days had been tampered with, leaving Seven to try and recover the lost files. And even once he’d recovered them, it’s very likely that the video will have no evidence as to her whereabouts. She could’ve been kidnapped when she was on the way to the party and the video tampering is just a way to throw them off her captor’s scent. Though why she wouldn’t have taken her phone with her as she was leaving the apartment is another question raised in that situation. If only she’d thought to sneak her phone with her, they might have been able to track her location partially.

“Maybe she just ran away,” Zen remarks, almost under his breath. It’s not that he isn’t concerned, but he’s just stating what everyone else _must_ be thinking. “Couldn’t think of a better way to dump the jerk.”

“She wouldn’t do that.” Jumin’s answer is quick, not relishing the idea of dealing with Zen at this moment.

“Well, if you hadn’t held her hostage we wouldn’t have had to deal with this”

“I didn’t hold her hostage, I asked her to stay and she did. Gladly.” _And if I hadn’t kept her in the penthouse, this might have happened sooner and none of us would’ve been the wiser._

“Hey hey! The actual person trying to find her has something to say!” Seven interrupted, waving his hands to catch the two men’s attention. It was really only Seven trying to track her down, with the rest of the RFA hanging around for… moral support? Running an occasional errand? Sifting through data while Seven did the actual hard work?

“Did you find anything?” Jaehee asks, getting up from her position at one of the tables scattered around Seven’s living space, where she’d been drafting up a missing person’s alert. Jumin had wanted to get them out while they were still at the party, but his assistant had advised against it, saying that ‘no one would take it seriously if they were put out this soon’. To which he replied that she had until the end of the day to alert authorities and get notices posted. 

“Sort-of kinda.” Seven said, swiveling his chair to face his monitors again. “I’ve been doing a few things at once- trying to recover the video files from Rika’s apartment, trying to track V’s phone, trying to continue tracing the hacker’s original attacks- and I am _close_ to getting an answer on _at least_ one of them.”  
“So you’ve found nothing?” Jumin pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He’s always prided himself on his patience- yes, he likes to have things done as quickly (and efficiently) as possible, but waiting has never bothered him. But now, every second that passes is echoed in his head as another second that the love of his life is in danger, another second where he is helpless in his ability to save her. 

“Ye- no.” Seven corrected himself halfway through, adjusting his glasses as he continued. “I’ve also checked all the cameras surrounding the building that Rika’s apartment is in, and they’ve all been tampered with as well. So, while before it was only about a 75% possibility that the hacker that brought our lovely party planner to the apartment was involved in her disappearance, I can now say with almost absolute certainty that he is involved.” 

“I’d already figured that, Luciel.”

“Yes, but it’s much better to know for sure than to continue with an assumption that may not be true, no?”

“What about V’s phone? Have you had any luck with that?” Yoosung pipes up from where he sits on the couch. Per usual, he was very adamant that V had something to do with it, which most of them had accepted anyways. Though, their interpretations of his absence vary from V having malicious intent to V actively trying to fix whatever had occurred. Jumin himself believes the latter, even if he wishes that V had at least contacted him beforehand.

“Again, sort-of kinda. He disabled his phone’s tracking, but seeing as I made the phone- or at least customized it with fun gadgets and what not- I should be able to at least get his coordinates. Actually, fix that, I _have_ gotten his coordinates, or whatever they were an hour ago. Apparently, the signal where he is is very weak, so it’s difficult to get a clear set of digits, but I have them. We know he’s somewhere in the mountains, but I can keep trying for better results.” 

“Then keep trying.” Jumin says, before checking his phone. V hasn’t responded to his text from earlier, sent almost immediately after his absence from the party was noted: **Call me. We need to talk.**

He knew that V had his secrets, and Jumin respected that. He recognizes the importance of privacy, even between close friends or even lovers. But now that his secrets were possibly putting someone so important to Jumin in danger, they needed to be shared. If V had known anything about who the hacker really was, and what his intentions really were in bringing a random girl into the RFA, he should have shared them back then. 

_No, don’t focus on the past and what should have been done. There are more important things that need your attention right now._ He looks over at the members of the RFA as they work on their own individual tasks and sighs. He vaguely registers that he is glad to have their help, that they were so ready to help him, even if it was probably spurred by love for his would-be fiancée rather than truly caring about Jumin. It doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t need their approval or even appreciation. 

He needs her.

****  
_  
She’s been blindfolded with a sleeping mask. A sleeping mask is easier to secure for the length of time it takes to get back to Magenta, though significantly less appealing to look at, Saeran notes. A real blindfold can come into play later, once she’s ready for it. Her hands on her legs are visibly shaking, bunching the fabric of her skirt in their fists, and he desperately wants to wrap his arms around her. But no, he can’t do that. Not yet, at least. He obviously hasn’t convinced her that Magenta is safe, is_ more than _safe, is… a paradise where she can finally flourish. Once that is complete, he’ll have fully gained her trust and captured her heart. Perhaps it is a bit dramatic to think of himself as a knight in shining armor, rescuing his beloved from an unhappy life, but he’d observed the others in the chatrooms refer to themselves as such. So she obviously does not mind the cliché._

_Though, maybe it is more apt to think of himself as an angel, sent to guide her along the path of love and salvation._

_Part of him- the louder part- is screaming to do whatever he can to make her love him as soon as possible, but another, much meeker part is telling him to just wait. She came with him so willingly, it would be a shame to throw away the meager amount of trust she must feel towards him. Besides, he’s already waited almost two years for this. What’s a few more weeks added to that? And she’s here- he can finally show her everything he’s wanted to._

_Before, she had been just an easy target. But sometime in the almost two years since he had singled her out, something changed. While his Savior may want her so they can get to the rest of the RFA, he now needs her for his own. To cherish her, and have her love in return. Maybe like a doll- perfect and waiting for him, always ready to be wrapped in his arms and be played with…. **No.** No, she’s a person. A person with interests (he knows them all), with quirks (he has them memorized), with feelings (he can’t wait to see them in all their glory). And he must treat her as such- an object of reverence, his own personal rescuer. Not a toy (despite how fun that idea may seem)._

_Yes, his Savior is responsible for the state of his mind and soul, but even She cannot claim ownership over his heart._ That _belongs to the woman next to him in the car._

_His leg bounces, impatient. It’s a lengthy car-ride, he knows this, but it certainly is dragging on more than it ever has before. Internally, he debates snapping at the driver to speed up, but he’s sure that the roads are too run down and winding for that to be a safe option. As much as he may need to bring her into Magenta and get her ready for her new life, her safety is, and always will be, his top priority._

_It’s only been an hour into the car ride when he notices that his companion’s breathing has slowly evened out. She’s asleep. Even with her eyes covered, he can tell just how beautiful she is, how content she looks when she sleeps. He knows that she must be frightened, even just a little bit, but seeing her face wiped clean of any negative emotions is refreshing. One day, perhaps soon, she could be that serene all the time._

_He raised a gentle hand, more gentle than anything he has done or said in a very long time, to stroke along her jawline._ She was so bright, _he thinks,_ that she should burn to the touch. _But she’s cold. Her breathing catches at the feather light touch, and he jerks his hand away. But she’s still asleep._

_When they finally reach Magenta, he hops out of the car, eager to get her into her room. It’s been sitting vacant for far too long. He walks around to her side, gingerly picking her up after making sure she was completely unbuckled. Since she’s unconscious, she’s unable to adjust herself for her own comfort and Saeran has to do his best to keep a firm grip on her body while he walks them in._

_At some point in the journey from the car to outside her room, she wakes up, startling awake and jerking in Saeran’s arms. He hushes her, and she falls silent. It seems her memories have come back from the past few hours, and she clearly recognizes her situation._

_“Can… can you please put me down?”_

_“Not yet.”_

_He only lets her down once they’ve reached the door to her room, before asking her to stay put for a second. She doesn’t move, the sleeping mask still firmly in place. He opens the door and looks in._

_The room is dark, only a few candles lit. He makes sure that there is nothing on the floor for her to possibly trip over before he grabs her hand again, pulling her in. She still stumbles on her own feet, quietly gasping. He realizes that he pulled too aggressively, and curses inwardly. For anyone else, he couldn’t care less about how he treated them and how they viewed him- as long as they knew to not overlook him, he didn’t give a shit. But with her, he needed her to see him as an angel, her own personal protector from the horrors of the outside world. He closes the door behind them, now once again in the dark._

_Once she’s standing where he wants her, he moves behind her to slip off her mask, leaning over to whisper in her ear._

_“Welcome to paradise, princess.”_  
  
****

Does Jihyun ever get tired of keeping secrets? The amount of burdens that he has taken onto himself to shoulder the brunt of has certainly started to take its toll on him. He rubs his eyes as he contemplates the future in front of him. There are so many layers to the current complication he’s found himself facing, and every single layer is somehow his fault.

Rika is the founder of a cult where she is posited as a savior? His fault.

Saeran has been forced to join said cult and is now damaged beyond repair? His fault.

Jumin’s lover was now kidnapped and will, at least, be forced to join the cult as well? His fault.

He checks his phone, pointedly ignoring the text from Jumin. There are things Jumin should know, at some point, but right now, Jihyun needs to fix the mess that he helped create. Once the RFA’s newest member is safe again, then he’ll tell Jumin everything he needs to know. But right now, he doesn’t have both the time nor the actual phone connection to tell Jumin. 

With that thought, he secures his phone in his pocket and dons the robe he’d slipped from one of his excursions into Mint Eye. 

He _will_ fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran waxes poetic, more at 8.
> 
> Also I am trying to keep Saeran in character, but a bit softer because of a lot of reasons but mainly because ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ that's all I can write. I also do not know anything about technology so just believe that everything I'm saying is probably wrong.
> 
> Playlist if u want is on my profile ;-)

**Author's Note:**

> I need new pet names because i feel like i keep returning to "my pet" but tbh it's just...... a Good Pet Name for these fics i keep writing lmao.
> 
> anyway!! Playlist is on my profile, per usual. You can find me over on tumblr @summercourtship


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